


Talking Big.

by orphan_account



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Masterbation, Other, Size Kink, Toys, size queen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-06 21:36:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4237518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is going to be a part of a series, I'll post more chapters in the future :)</p>
    </blockquote>





	Talking Big.

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be a part of a series, I'll post more chapters in the future :)

Trailcutter couldn’t bare it anymore, he’d teased himself enough. The glossy centrefold was spread out in front of him, the curvaceous body of a doe-eyed mech with a _big_ _bumper_ stared back at him. 

_Oh baby!_ Trailcutter mouthed at the glowing poster. This month’s issue of _Big Bolts_ had been especially tasty. The mechs in the cargo bay had passed it around and chuffed at the oversized frames and disproportionate aft to chest ratios as it wasn’t to their tastes. Which made the data pad easier to swipe after his shift was done.

Trailcutter liked them _big._ As a fairly average sized mech himself the notion of being buried under a _gloriously_ huge frame was a massive turn on that strangely no one else seemed to share. So he kept his fantasies a secret, and waited until his roommate worked the nightshift before calling all of his favourite friends out to play. 

They spent most of their time hidden under the berth, but as soon as an opportunity arose Trailcutter was yanking them out of their boxes. Over millennia his collection had grown, and now he almost felt a little embarrassed of its size. He’d gotten greedy one time at a three for two sale in his favourite unmentionable shop. All it meant was that Trailcutter now owned a toy for every occasion and tonight he was in an adventurous mood. 

His aft hit the floor with a heavy bump, the toy under him filled his valve hard and fast. It wasn’t large, just enough to start off on. Trailcutter stopped supporting his weight entirely and forced the toy as deep as it would go, until the plate holding the toy erect was flush with his valve. 

Trailcutter squirmed, revolving his hips in small, indulgent circles, so that the head of the toy rubbed him in delicious ways. The girth was thin, just enough to prepare him for the next encounter with his vibrating favourite with the bunny-ears. It sported a turbo setting. 

He pulled off the skinny dildo, lapping some lubricant off his fingers before swiping the magazine onto the next page. His mouth watered at the sight. He was staring into a pair of plump valve lips, they were unnaturally swollen and sleek with grease, their bulbous forms hiding the valve entrance though the image didn’t leave much to the imagination. Trailcutter planted both feet on the ground and arched back, one thick hand kept him steady, the other ploughed the ribbed body of his next toy _deep_ into his valve. The twitching appendages ground hard over his exterior nub, delivering a jolt of pleasure to the circuits that weaved deeply into his body. 

As pleasure rocked through him, Trailcutter clung to the image of the mech with the thick valve as he threw his weight into the toy, spearing himself, but the obstruction of the madly flailing vibrating tools prevented him from swallowing up any more of the toy. 

Trailcutter had forgotten how irritating that was, and with his charge creeping up his thighs and so much left to offer from the rest of his collection, Trailcutter threw the inadequate model aside and reached for the next delight. 

This time it was a sleeve his could slip his spike into, the entrance to which didn’t look unlike pinup’s inflated assets. On his knees again, Trailcutter stifled a moan and eased his spike into the faux clutch. There was still some lube left over in the dark socket from their last encounter. The feeling of filth made him tingle as much as the tightness pumping his spike. 

The sleeve was a little too small, it pinched his girth hard, or, as Trailcutter preferred to think of it as, he’d outgrown the sleeve.  

As he battled the logistics of his toys, Trailcutter’s hooded gaze fell onto the magazine again, getting surprisingly thoughtful in a moment that was meant to include no sense just service. He wondered how they managed to grow their valve so big, or was it the effects of one of those unusual suction toys he’d read about - the kind that sucked and squeezed under immense pressure. Trailcutter shuddered at the thought, he reached down between his legs to caress the source of agitation and increase it into mind numbing pleasure. 

_Primus!_

Would there be anyone aboard the ship who’d be daring enough to own such a device? Trailcutter was happily plagued by images of Rung shut in his office and reaping the debauchery of such a device. His little orange legs kicking as he forced himself to give the suction pump _one more squeeze._

Suddenly, the sleeve wasn’t enough. Trailcutter was turning to the next page and picking another toy. Something wild and  against his nub and juice out the first overload of his evening best spent alone.  

 


End file.
